Ramble Story
by Kyocera's Vendetta
Summary: Series of one-shots about everyone's favorite nerd and shark-boy: Maka and Soul.
1. Chapter 1

**Ramble Story**

**Color**

A/N: Typed quickly, read hastily, posted humbly.

* * *

><p>It wasn't like it was a <em>date<em> or anything.

Soul shifted uncomfortably in his seat anyways as the silence rolled above them in an invisible cloud of awkwardness. Maka, on the other hand, looked anything but self-conscious, and absently traced the rim of her glass with meticulous precision.

It _usually_ wasn't hard to accept the fact Maka and Soul were Level 0 when it came to social skills, what with Maka's curt behavior and Soul's edgy demeanor. Then again, they didn't _usually_ attend these restaurants with menus that had no prices next to the food listings.

Soul supposed, in Death Scythe's own pathetically flamboyant way, the red-headed moron was trying to make up for missing Maka's birthday; which she vehemently claimed wasn't a big deal, and which he ostentatiously broke down in to loud sobs which turned several disturbed heads.

So when Death Scythe invited the two to "Merde Luxueuse" (1), Soul nearly gagged on his wonderful, ass-kicking bendy straw at the local fast-food place. _That_ was yesterday morning. And it took several knots, choking, fights, and Maka Chops to squeeze Soul in to a black suit and tie the next day.

Maka could clean up well, Soul had to admit from his peripheral while he pretended to be deeply fascinated by the elaborate chandeliers above. She wore a silk emerald green dress with black flora lace, the combination very elegant and mature (as apposed to the usual, school-girl get-up).

He can tell she's already kicked off the ridiculous stilettos Blaire had squeezed on to her feet. She also seemed to be feeling the awkward cloud descend up on their candle-lit table like a fog as she was suddenly very interested in the conversation behind her.

Honestly, it wasn't _his_ fault Death Scythe had to run off to god knows where, doing who knew what, while leaving a shiny black credit card in his wake that seemed to drill holes in Soul's crummy wallet hidden in his pocket.

There was an abrupt splash of liquid along with a slap and Soul watched in confusion en-laced with amusement as a brunette with too many diamonds to be considered human turned back to the table she sat at to spit venomously, "And my favorite color is purple! Asshole..."

Soul watched the stranger storm out before turning to the table Maka had been eavesdropping on to see a man soaked in red wine (sucker), clearly astounded, with a velvet box hastily tucked back in to his breast pocket. Huh...hopefully Maka wouldn't get any ideas-

"Hey, Soul?"

Aw, shit.

"...Yeah?"

"What's my favorite color?"

_Fuck_-

"Uuuhh..." Oh crap, oh crap. The dreaded color question that girls seemed to think to be direly important in a relationship ("_What relationship!"_). What was she wearing? Green!

"Gr-"

No wait... she always wears that yellow vest, and she likes ducks-which are yellow!

"Yel-"

But then again...black coat, black boots, she's wearing black-...whatever the fuck that's called, right now-uh, uh uh!

"-ack." he finished lamely.

She blinked once owlishly before giving him a look that clearly questioned his vocabularic sanity.

"Grelack?" she repeated slowly.

He gulped, racking his mind for the answer. Coming up with absolute squat, he waited for some sort of divine punishment that came in the form of a Maka Chop that involved broken glass and possibly a stiletto heel.

Maka sighed in disappointment and picked up her glass to sip the contents, Soul flinched in preparation for the onslaught.

"It's red."

"_Huh?_"

She stared directly in to his eyes then, as if confirming something. He understood why before the words were out of her mouth.

"My favorite color is red."

He pretends the flush on his cheeks was due to the wine and grabbed a bread stick from the basket. She follows suit, and while she butters the end he mumbles something.

"Sorry?"

"My favorite color is green...just so you know." he shoots her a look that she inwardly grins at, and they eat their bread sticks while pondering the foreign names on the menu for any sort of idea of what they would be eating that night.

"Hmm... I like hamburgers." she said suddenly. He peered at her over his menu, carefully restraining the hopeful glee building up in his chest.

"...I like hamburgers too."

"Let's get some." she quipped quickly while jumping out of her chair.

Soul made sure to pocket the black credit card from daddy-wonder while following her lithe-skip out of the hell-for-wealthy-people.

"How much do you think is in that credit card anyways?" Maka asked as they were met with the chilly night air.

Soul already has her jacket out before she could even shiver, "I'd say enough for a 100 hamburgers."

"...Should I call Black Star?"

"I said a hundred, not a million."

* * *

><p>+(1) Merde Luxueuse- French for "Fancy Shit"<p>

+Credit to "Stomp the Yard", because I am in love with dancing while making weird faces.

+Time took to write...about 20 minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: All dialogue. Saw it, wanted to try it.

* * *

><p>"Oi.."<p>

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

"Go eat something."

"We only have tofu."

"Eat tofu."

"...You serious?"

"Ugh, _stop bothering me_."

"Then feed me!"

"Don't wanna."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm reading!"

"_So?_ The book won't grow legs and take off!"

"_It will learn how to fly soon if you don't stop bugging me_."

"Fine, fine! I'll go out or something!"

"You go do that."

"..."

"..."

"Oi..."

"_What_."

"Do you got money?"

"You have _got_ to be kidding me! What happened to that wad of money BlackStar-"

"Bike repairs."

"But what about the missions-"

"Rent."

"Your allo-"

"Dentist."

"...You go to the dentist?"

"For some reason I feel insulted. Why are you so surprised?"

"Well...with your teeth and all... what kind of dentist do you _have_? Does he think all those fangs are a _good thing_?"

"He thinks they're cool. Which they are."

"Until you bite your tongue off, then you'd have a problem."

"Please, I'm not accident prone like _you_."

"That's it..."

"Wha- OH COME ON."

"Serves you right."

"This is my favorite shirt you _moron_."

"And _this_ is my favorite book. Didn't stop you."

"_For the love of_- I just want food, Lady!"

"I'm not a walking fast food place!"

"So can I-"

"_Or a bank!"_

"..."

"Just...starve. Or something- **what are you doing**?"

"Drying my shirt?"

"Don't strip here you idiot!"

"...are you _blushing_?"

"_No!_"

"What, can't take the abs?"

"More like the _man boobs_-"

"I. Do not. Have. Man boobs!"

"Could have fooled me!"

"... _Ugh_. Whatever. I'm going to Black Star's, where all the women are _sane._"

"Fine!'

"_Fine!_"

"..."

"..."

"Are you gone yet?"

"No..."

"..."

"It's like, zero degrees outside."

"...I'll order take-out."

"_Holy crap_. You are a genius."

"Yeah, yeah. What's the number for Tito's again?"


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm Waiting for You**

* * *

><p>She had waited.<p>

She waited so very long, staring at the door as if her very existence depended on it. And it did.

What kept her through each day, even though every second felt like a stab through her chest, every minute felt like her insides were nothing but charred remains, every day was pure agony?

It wasn't the cigarette's used and still burning in her limp fingers.

It wasn't the half-empty alcohol bottles piled in the fridge.

It certainly wasn't the monthly visits from Tsubaki.

..In fact, that used to be a daily ritual. Maka no longer remembered when those awkward visits became a weekly thing; and now she had 30 days to prepare herself for the face she had once smiled for back then. Back when he was around.

And she resumed to waiting.

Her life-line depended on that one glimmer of hope, a fantasy she had concocted on one of her high trips. That one day he'd burst through that door, the same as ever, with his blazing eyes she was addicted to and that lopsided smirk that made her heart shudder every time she saw it.

But her heart was nothing now, simply the aftermath of a long, torturous burning.

When had she begun suspecting it?

Him leaving.

Was it when he stayed up late in the night sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV?

When he had stopped giving her rides on his motorcycle? Something she had actually enjoyed despite her earlier fears.

When he skipped school countless times, never telling her where he'd been no matter how many Maka Chops or tears she used?

And then the fateful day she came home, and nothing was there. Oh there was still the couch, the TV, everything else that was essentially _Maka's_. But Soul's stuff was gone. Soul was gone. Her _soul_ was gone.

Maka already knew _why_.

It was a girl, there was no doubt about it. Black Star himself said Soul had fallen for someone, and had fallen hard. Maka laughed it off at first.

Even if it was true, it was only a crush right?

But when Soul falls hard, he apparently falls _hard_.

Maka had no more tears, only took another drag of her cigarette, and resumed to stare blankly at the door. It still held the splinters and scratches from where Maka had thrown various objects upon it's sturdy frame in one of her fits.

She had stopped throwing things, in favor of leaving deep gashes in to her bony wrists. Sometimes she imagined those blades were Soul's scythe form, and he was finally back.

It was better than nothing.

The couch's springs groaned as she got up, squishing the cigarette on the ash tray which looked more like a mini Christmas tree made of scrunched white sticks.

She had to do it...and if he wasn't there...

Well, she wouldn't wait for him anymore.

Maka made her way to the door, the same door she used to come through every day, always saying "I'm home" with no response, eventually she had stopped that habit. So with a shaky hand, she grasped the oval handle.

She closed her eyes and twisted the knob, pushing the door open. It croaked ominously and slowly swung forward.

Maka opened her eyes.

Nothing.

Nothing but the empty hallway perpendicular to her. She stared at the pastel yellow walls cracked with age for a second. She opened her mouth to scream in frustration, but nothing came out.

Her feet weren't here own as she ran pass the doorway and down the hall, not caring that she crashed into the wall several times in her haste.

Her tattered and dirty coat flapped loudly behind her as she sprinted to the small balcony opposite to the end of the hall with the elevator, where she thought her feet would take her.

But no, as a foot went up and onto the railing, she understood what her body wanted, and she used her hands to fling herself over the metal barricade.

There wasn't a sense of her life coming to an end. There wasn't any images flashing before her eyes. All she could feel was the wind biting into her exposed skin. She heard the flapping of her coat and the deafening air resistance that swung past her. The air was blowing upwards, she was going down.

The first thing she acknowledged was the coldness on her cheek and the prickle in her eyes. Well, she had some tears left after all.

There was a dull scream from far off, along with several flurries of muffled voices. Her body blossomed with warmth in random places, dimming the piercing fire that raged in her very bones. She took a single, agonizing breath through her rotting lungs, to realize how painful it was, yet wanting more.

She gasped for air, as if she had just run miles instead of a couple yards.

The warmth was slowly being replaced by cold, and cold replaced by nothing.

She heard footsteps then, clear as a bell though everything else was dim and ignorable. They stopped in front of her, she saw teeth-printed shoes.

"Geez...so not cool, Maka."

Her heart, though slowing, skipped a beat.

"It's not cool to keep a guy like me waiting, you know."

_Soul_.

Maka sat up then, the fact her body was perfect despite it's painful state a second ago did not register in her mind. Her eyes trailed up, first on the stiff red fabric that was her partner's jeans, to the yellow and black signature sweater, the shark-teeth that were not grinning, but sighing in exasperation, and stopped at the ruby eyes that stared down at her in irritation.

"Soul." she breathed with an emotion she couldn't categorize.

He grinned then, showing more pointed whites, "Hey there." He offered a hand and she took it, "It's been a while."

Maka nodded, still in awe, as she stared at him in reverie whilst he helped her stand. He frowned then, before scowling. Before she could ask what was wrong he pulled her in to a bone-breaking hug.

"Maka.." he breathed in to her ear, "I've missed you..you have no idea how long I've waited for you."

Maka didn't respond, merely wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes.

This was the moment.

This was what she had been waiting for, and it was worth it. In his arms, breathing his scent, hearing his rough voice, the feel of his jacket's fabric on her. It had been worth every hang over, every cut, every tear, everything.

A whisper of sirens dully rang from the white background.

* * *

><p>+ I wrote this a while ago. Like, a bit after the Soul Eater manga started. Just did some grammar edits, other than that… Yep.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Lazy Day.**

**Bruno Mars ~ The Lazy Song**

A/N: Ironically, I'm really busy. _Hah_. This would be my break/procrastination time.

* * *

><p><em>Today I don't feel like doing anything<em>

_I just wanna lay in my bed_

_Don't feel like picking up my phone_

_So leave a message at the tone_

_Cus today I swear I'm not doing anything_

"... why the hell have we been watching the same sitcom for _four damn hours_." a voice from the couch groaned. The cushions squeaked as Soul rolled on to his side in an attempt to get comfortable.

"Change the channel then..." came the tired reply from the recliner, which was currently smothered under a chaotic pile of blankets.

"..." Soul yawned, scratching his stomach.

_I'm gonna kick my feet up and stare at the fan_

_Turn the TV on_

_Throw my hand in my pants_

_Nobodys gon' tell me I can't_

"_Ugh_...Soul, I told you this already. If you're going to shove your hand in your pants,_ which is gross_, do it when I'm not around." Maka complained, pulling a disgusted face.

"Stop me then." he challenged, eyes not straying from the screen. He could feel her irritated wavelength and smirked.

"...You're lucky I can't get off this recliner." she kind of wished she had enough will power to grab her book from off the coffee table, which was about... well, two feet away. She groaned.

_I'll be lying on the couch just chillin in my snuggie_

_Click to MTV so they can teach me how to dougie_

_Cus in my castle I'm the freakin man_

_Oh Oh_

"Oi Maka, gimme one of your blankets."

"..."

"Come on... I'm freezing over here."

"Take one for yourself."

"But you're over _there_." he whined. Maka didn't both pointing out his feet currently rested on her thigh which was precariously thrown over both arm rests of the recliner and couch. They had been pushed together when Maka vacuumed the floors. No one bothered pushing them apart after that.

_Yes I said it_

_I said it_

_I said it cus I can_

It was a bit funny how the only thing in common Maka and Soul had were they were complete bums on Sunday. Homework, video games, friends, and pretty much life was turned off for those blissful 24 hours. The only active thing in the household was the television whom neither resident was listening to.

_Today I don't feel like doing anything_

_I just wanna lay in my bed_

_Don't feel like picking up my phone_

_So leave a message at the tone_

_Cus today I swear I'm not doing anything_

The shrill ring of the landline had both occupants sinking further in their cushioned prison.

"Ten bucks it's Black Star."

"You're on."

"You've reached Maka and Soul, we're not home right now so-"

"_SOUULLLLLL! Where the fuck are ya man?"_

"Damn," Soul cursed, burying his head between two mismatched throw pillows, "Shut him _up_."

"10 dollars, shark boy." a smug voice radiated from the recliner.

"_Oh,_ bite me." he grumbled, closing his already droopy eyes.

_Nothing at all_

_Woohoo ooh_

_Woohoo ooh hooh ooh ooh_

_Nothing at all_

_Woohoo ooh_

_Woohoo ooh hooh ooh ooh_

"...if I take my hand out of my pants would you forget the bet?"

"Nah, 'cause you're just going to do it again." True.

A comfortable silence enveloped them as they half-watched the cheesy drama.

_Tomorrow I'll wake up do some P90X_

_Meet a really nice girl have some really nice sex_

_And she's gonna sream out 'this is great' (Oh my god, this is great)_

_Yeaaah_

"...if I do my homework tonight would you forget about it?" He cringed at the thought.

"You're too lazy anyways, don't see the point." was the half mumbled reply, he could tell his meister was on the verge of sleep.

A mischievous grin spread, "Oh, I think we could come up with some _good _motivation."

"...only good?"

_I might mess around and get my college degree_

_I bet my old mam would be so proud of me_

_But sorry paps you'll just have to wait_

_Oh Oh_

The phone ringed again.

Soul jumped at the chance, "Ten-"

"Ten on Black Star," Maka interupted curtly. Soul only scoffed and mutterred, "_Whatever."_

"message- _beep_. _Maakaaaaa! Why haven't you been answering your cell phone? PAPA WANTS TO HEAR YOUR VOICE-"_ Mysteriously enough, the phone blew up.

_Yes I said it_

_I said it_

_I said it cus I can_

"Wow...you do that with your wavelength and you can't even give me a blanket."

"..."

"And now I owe you _nothing_. Hah!"

"Oh darn," he did _not _like that sarcastic drawl in her voice with a teasing undertone, "Guess we don't need to have sex. _Pity_."

_Today I don't feel like doing anything_

_I just wanna lay in my bed_

_Don't feel like picking up my phone_

_So leave a message at the tone_

_Cus today I swear I'm not doing anything_

"...you heathen."

"I learned from the best~"

_No I ain't gonna comb my hair_

_Cus I ain't going anywhere_

_No No No No No No No No No_

_Oh_

Maka was just wondering what that shuffling sound was when a weight pressed against her torso.

"_What the f-"_

_I'll just strut in my birthday suit_

_And let everything hang loose_

_YeahYeahYeahYeahYeah..._

_Ohh ohh_

Blood red eyes stared down at her. And even though countless blankets separated their pajama-clad forms, her heart stuttered at the contact. Like her voice, "W-what are you-"

He tilted his head downwards, effectively silencing her.

_Today I don't feel like doing anything_

_I just wanna lay in my bed_

_Don't feel like picking up my phone_

_So leave a message at the tone_

_Cus today I swear I'm not doing anything_

"Mmph..._Sou-!_"

...

There was a small popping sound, followed by exaggerated breaths, "..._Yes?_"

Her cheeks burned bright red, "Moron."

Maka considered pushing the leg rest down so he could get _the fuck _off her when he captured her lips again, only to reconsider the action when she felt his tongue slide in to her mouth.

There wasn't much scheming, or thought in general, after that.

_Nothing at all_

_Woohoo ooh_

_Woohoo ooh hooh ooh ooh_

_Nothing at all_

It was only when Maka felt like she would pass out from lack of air did Soul look up, his gaze making a beeline for the clock.

"Oh look, time for homework." he said brightly, jumping to his feet with an energy Maka couldn't consider possible for a Sunday.

Especially when he picked her up, blankets and all.

"_Soul-_!"

"Come on we need to get a good start before dinner time," he chirped happily, practically galloping to his room. Her arms automatically fumbled around his neck lest she be thrown off. Her eye caught sight of a decrepit looking thing by the table before he waltzed passed the doorway in to his lair.

_Woohoo ooh_

_Woohoo ooh hooh ooh ooh_

_Nothing at all_

"Soul. Your school bag's by the table."

"I know."

The door closed.

* * *

><p>+I don't find much detail in this one because I was too mortified to write any more uh...descriptions.<p>

+Heh.

+First songfic? Yep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ramble Story**

**Dull**

A/N: I figured I'd write something since I haven't posted in forever. And I _really, really_ don't want to wash Hanson.

* * *

><p>Dull.<p>

Maka's eye twitched at the word. Soul had called her _dull_.

Normally when facing the completely idiotic, self-centered bonehead, she normally ignored his jibes (ex: Tiny Tits, Stupid, etc..) yet _dull_ was her Achilles Heel. It was the chink in her armor, the loose thread in her jean skirt, the missing piece of her puzzle if you will.

"I am not dull," Maka repeated for the tenth time to herself in a determined fashion as she briskly walked (fled) down the halls of Shibusen. Stubborn tears absolutely refused to dry out from her narrowed _dull_ green eyes. Her _dull_ colored hair breezed against their _dull_ pig-tails, completing her overall DULL look.

Maka was dull.

"I hate Soul, I hate Soul." Maka had decided to come up with a new chant, one she stuck to fervently. Despite her constant attempts to push everything except the numerous ways of Soul's murder from her mind, academic questions constantly popped in her head as if finalizing her boring life.

Or should she say dull.

Maka realized she couldn't make it to the apartments without throwing a fit. Blair would probably cause problems anyways, and sat obstinately against the wall of an abandoned hallway. The craggy, dark walls comforted her more than anything. She grew up reading in these hallways.

'I wonder when Soul will come to from my Maka Chop,' the girl thought monotonously, leaning her head back against the uneven stone. 'I hope Stein isn't mad at me for stomping out, he'd understand..Probably not.'

Maka sighed and closed her eyes, a small hum in her throat. She just had to wait it out. Wait for all the anger and the tears to fade away. And then she could be her usual self with her empty emotionless eyes and nondescript face.

'Maybe if I was like Tsubaki,' Maka thought bitterly, 'She's nice. She's known for being nice, and pretty, and strong. She was an heir right? That counts too. Or maybe Patty, she's always happy. That would be nice, and she stands out with her big boobs..'

Maka looked at her own flat chest in comparison and sighed again, 'Or Blair..'

Definitely not.

"Maka?"

Girl in question looked up, Marie was there, lost again probably. She was surprised to see the girl, as Maka was surprised to see her former teacher.

"Hi, Marie."

"Hello," the older woman mumbled, "What brings you here?"

"Steaming." Maka replied bluntly to the wall across from her.

"Ah," there was the clack of three more steps, then the sound of fabric sliding as Marie plopped next to the girl. Maka's temper was famous for being forever lost.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to tell," Maka muttered, "Soul is Soul. I can't change that."

"To contrary belief, you've already had." Marie laughed. Maka liked Marie's laugh, it was reassuring and nice, "He's a lot more mature now, with you by his side. And he brings out the..character in you so to say. You two are a great pair, never forget that."

"It's hard not to." Maka smiled at that thought, "He brings out my character?"

Marie nodded gravely, performing a toned down version of a Maka Chop to the air in front of her. That startled a laughed out of Maka, "I'm known for my abuse? Splendid."

Marie laughed too, "You're just more alive with Soul around you. No pun intended of course. So.. don't be too hard on yourself okay? Whatever is bothering you."

"He called me dull," Maka confessed, "And he's right. I don't know how to change."

"Do you want to change?" Marie asked in confusion, "I like how you look."

"Thanks. Soul doesn't though." And I have the nagging suspicion his opinion is the only one that truly counts. Maka added that thought to herself alone.

"Well.." Marie flicked a pigtail, "There's always the little things. Stein once noticed when I got a new bracelet."

Maka didn't miss the pink tinge on the older woman's cheeks, "He notices everything, it's part of his dissection training."

"Yeah.." that made Marie grimace.

"I'm joking of course." Maka said, surprised.

"It's hard to tell with Stein." Marie scratched the back of her neck, "But, he's fun. He's weird, and I guess weird suits me."

Marie was strong like that. She was tough enough to deal with Stein, yet gentle enough to draw him closer. Maka wondered why her vision of Stein and Marie kept switching back to Soul, she answered absently, "Yeah. Weird."

She wanted to be Marie, minus the strange taste in men.

* * *

><p>It was a long walk back to the apartments.<p>

Maka wouldn't admit it, even to herself, but she was a _bit_ let down when she walked out of Shibusen to see Soul's bike missing from the parking lot. Of course he wouldn't wait for her..

Who would?

She wondered how she would make it up to him once she got back to the apartments. Maybe she'd cook his favorites (she'd have to starve then, because his tastes were ghastly). Or they could just argue it out and wait for morning to pretend like it would never happen.

But then the problem would just roll over to the next day... and the day after that if they still wouldn't solve their differences.

'I wonder if this was how Mama and Papa were,' Maka slowed down then, 'Maybe that's why Papa cheated so much...'

The thought of Soul finding another meister sent such a sudden jolt though her body she tripped over her own feet. No... that couldn't possibly happen... would it?

Given, their relationship was 40% fighting Kishin, 129% fighting each other. Given, she had the appeal of a 7 year old. Given, all she was good for was reading and studying and wasn't really _there_ for him.

She was a little surprised when a tear escaped.

Not really.

The familiar roar of a Harley made her shoulders stiffen. She turned around slowly, so as to not force her body in to a heart attack, and could only gape as the large locomotive screeched to a halt by the side walk right next to her.

There was already angry cussing before he turned the engine off.

"-_fucking been looking for you god damn EVERYWHERE!"_ he exploded, taking his goggles off. She had never really gotten used to Soul's eyes when he was angry. Seeing them so close to her (as he had shoved his face in her personal space) left her speechless.

"You don't freaking attack me and storm off and disappear!" he jabbed a finger at her non-existent chest, "_I didn't even do anything wrong...GAH!_"

Her lip twitched when he threw his hands up to the heavens as if asking God to agree with him. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders (as cliché as _that_ sounded). He had left to go look for her?

"...are you _crying_?"

"Huh?" that brought her out of her musings, she touched a finger to her cheek. Wet, "Oh! Um...no?"

He sighed in exasperation, barring his jagged teeth that triggered several crying fits from the kids playing in the park a couple feet away. They had obviously been interested in the noisy, cussing man.

Soul didn't even pay attention to them, "I'm sorry, okay? Whatever the fuck I did.. not saying you're crazy or nothing...well you are but that's not the-"

"Sorry."

It was Soul's turn to gape, "..._Huh?_"

Maka entwined her hands behind her back, "Sorry." and smiled then.

"...what the... you _never _apologize. Wh..._what_-"

"I was thinking of making sushi for dinner," she had already proceeded to lift the seat from his bike to retrieve the only helmet he had stowed inside (for her). "Sound good to you?"

She really hated raw fish.

Soul didn't say anything, not trusting himself to talk. And just mounted his bike, lifting his elbows a little so she could wind her arms around his torso. Maka, as creepy as it sounded, inhaled his scent.

His leather jacket smelled like... well what do you know, leather. Possibly oil, if the stains on his jeans had any contribution. Then there was that scent she could never categorize for the life of her. Not quite as grainy as hot sand, yet nothing like hearth after the fire had gone out. Whatever it was, it was warm. She kind of liked it.

'One day, I'll be like Marie,' Maka sighed mentally, not caring the slightest that several mothers (holding their crying kids) were conversing urgently with one of the patrolling police. Soul had already revved the engine and they were on their way back home.

'Strange taste in men and all.'

* * *

><p>+Acquired Taste is depressing me..<p>

+Currently/kinda working on a new story. Not that it's getting anywhere. But yeah.

+This chapter was typed up more like a filler so you guys know I'm not dead or comatose.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ramble Story**

**Hide-N-Seek**

A/N: So with the Hitori Kakurenbo (Hide and Seek Alone) craze flying through the internet I thought I'd do a little one-shot special for all the tumblr blogs out there that filled my dash up with this nonsense.

* * *

><p>I'm not really sure why I'm doing this.<p>

It's pretty much Black Star's fault, with his shit-eating grin and know-it-all look. But Maka Albarn doesn't turn down dares, especially when they involve ghosts. Because ghosts don't exist and stuff.

Much less want to play hide and seek.

But it sounded creepy enough, maybe that's why Tsubaki looked a little worried when she handed me the instructions for this stupid game. Given, she's Japanese and they're superstitious like that, well technically I'm Japanese too...

Right. The doll.

I held up the old, hand-woven doll that my father had gotten me for my birthday. The two painted dots that served as eyes were fading, and the hair was torn and frayed from years of neglect. Honestly, I wasn't too sad to see it go.

It's kind of stupid to waste perfectly good rice though.

All the same I made a vertical incision on the doll's petite body. Cotton puffed out of the opening, and for a moment I kind of regretted ruining a gift my Papa gave me. Eh, oh well.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cut the doll and replace its insides with rice and something from your body.<strong>_

* * *

><p>After removing the cotton, I carefully filled the doll up with rice and a few nail clippings I had taken before Soul had left to watch the game at Black Star's place. He didn't seem too interested in the game either, but maybe he was just playing it cool.<p>

He's a sucker for ghost stories.

As I sewed the doll up, I could hear the telly from the living room: some sort of reality show Soul likes. He was probably recording it and forgot to turn off the telly.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wrap the doll with the red thread as if to hinder it.<strong>_

* * *

><p>Using the same red thread I used to sew it up, I wrapped the doll up and double knotted the ends. Now that I looked at it, I suppose the doll looked very creepy, but harmless with her stitched smile and oversized feet and hands.<p>

I remember when I first got this doll. This was back when my love for books wasn't as strong as my love for toys. In fact, I think my mother was still in the Nevada at that time. But she was somewhere else... I forgot where. I don't even know where she is right now.

* * *

><p><em><strong>In a bathroom, pour water into a washbasin.<strong>_

* * *

><p>As I let the tub under the sink fill with water, I went to the living room to turn off the telly. We really should get a new one, the sound on this thing is getting lower by the day. But Soul wants some ridiculously huge, flat screen, wall-hanging, life-time-of-servitude-costing model that I can't stop rolling my eyes at.<p>

I could hear the tub overflowing from the bathroom so I went to turn off the water. The doll sat where I had left it, staring at me with its faded eyes and crooked, stitched smile. Oh right, the instructions. I looked back to the small paper on the corner of the bathroom's counter, checking off another line of Tsubaki's elegant scrawl.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Give the doll a name.<strong>_

* * *

><p>"I guess I'll call you..." I stared at the doll for a second longer, then the red thread, "Aka."<p>

I wasn't really sure if I blinked or not, but it looked like the lights flickered for a moment. This has happened before, and it was usually just my mind playing tricks on me, but for some reason the timing was just too perfect.

I stared at the doll apprehensively this time, before taking it to the living room. I set it on the coffee table, facing me, and opened a book I was halfway-finished with. I peeked at the clock: 1:30AM.

I forgot if Soul said he would stay the night there or not, either way he always came back late. He's always late when he's dicking around with Black Star. Excuse my language.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Start the game at 3AM.<strong>_

* * *

><p>I was just getting to the good part (Hina was going to stand up to her abusive father) when I checked the clock out of habit again. 2:55, well now's as good a time as any.<p>

I looked back at the doll, staring at me with its smile that seemed to be growing creepier by the hour, and took it back to the bathroom to keep the basin of water company, then back to the living room to do the one thing all scary rituals universally required.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Turn off all the lights and lock all the doors.<strong>_

* * *

><p>I used to be scared of the dark when I was a kid. I remember my mother bought me a small nightlight that didn't help at all. It only created more shadows, and when you're a kid your imagination and seeing shadows are not a good combination. I still have the nightlight too. Somewhere...<p>

I first made sure my bedroom light was off. I knew for a fact Soul's was off, he never turns the thing on. That boy loves the darkness.

He really is an albino.

Next I turned off the kitchen and the living room lights, even the small table lamp that doesn't give off much light to begin with (It's a miracle I don't need glasses. Yet.) I skipped locking the doors because there is no key to unlock them again (it'd look pretty uncool to lock myself out of my own room). Then I went back to the bathroom and turned off that light as well.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. All I could see was my vague silhouette in the bathroom mirror and the reflective lights of cars from the street below pass the building. Even if it was in the dead hours of the night, "_Someone's always awake in Death City._

That thought gave me a little comfort, until I remembered the end of that saying.

..._or something._"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Close your eyes and say "First tagger is (doll name)!" three time [talk sternly to the doll]<strong>_.

* * *

><p>"Well sternly's no problem." I said to myself as I crossed off another line of Tsubaki's notes after my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I took another look at the doll and closed my eyes.<p>

"First tagger is Aka."

"First tagger is Aka."

"_First tagger is Aka_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Put the doll in the wash basin.<strong>_

* * *

><p>I let the doll fall with a comedic "plop" into the wash basic, watching her rice-filled body sink to the bottom. I wondered what the point of this was, and made a note to ask Tsubaki later. Not to stereotype, but when it comes to Japanese traditions and legends, there is always a meaning behind everything. Literally everything.<p>

English teachers in Japan must be hell.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Close your eyes and count to ten. Say "I found you (doll name)!" and stab the doll with your weapon.<strong>_

* * *

><p>"This'll have to do." I muttered under my breath, pressing the eraser on my mechanical pencil so the lead tip would be more prominent, "I found you Aka!"<p>

With years of Kishin fighting under my belt, I stabbed the doll efficiently straight through the chest which I had so carefully stitched up before.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Close your eyes again and say "Now (doll name) is it!" three times.<strong>_

* * *

><p>"Now Aka is it, now Aka is it,<em> now Aka is it<em>." I said, barely above a whisper. The darkness and the loneliness of it all was really getting to me.

This is ridiculous.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Place the weapon next to your doll.<strong>_

* * *

><p>If I stabbed the spirit to make it angry, I wasn't really sure why I would want to equip the spirit with the means to stab me back, but I set the mechanical pencil next to the basin all the same.<p>

I'm not sure why I felt the need to do this, but I pressed the lead point back into the mechanical pencil, leaving only the dull edge remaining. I really don't feel like getting stabbed today.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hide.<strong>_

* * *

><p>It's hard not to be cliché, but the closet is really the only place I fit in, so I headed to my bedroom. It was so quiet I could hear my footsteps as I walked. Did this count as cheating? Wouldn't the doll hear me heading for my room?<p>

I almost face-palmed as that thought crossed my mind. I seriously should stop letting this stuff go to my head. With only a cup of saltwater to guard myself, I stepping into my closet and closed the doors. As I shut the last door, my awareness seemed to increase ten-fold. I guess dark, enclosed spaces can do that.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Drink the salt water, do not swallow it.<strong>_

* * *

><p>Salt water is actually pretty healthy for you. So I took a medium-sized gulp and sat there with my cheeks jutting out like some cheap imitation of a hippo.<p>

I lay my head against the wall and wait, I wonder how long I'll have to sit here until I can end this hoax of a ghost tale and punch Black Star in the face.

* * *

><p><em><strong>When hiding, be silent.<strong>_

* * *

><p>Serious, it's been like an hour. This is stupid, the water in my mouth is starting to taste like liquid metal, how does salt ward off spirits anyway? I should just end this game and go back to reading. I was at a good part too!<p>

Hina was going to finally become a free woman and marry James and-

I tensed, it couldn't be...

Was that the television?

It sounded like the telly, the host of that reality show raving about something. I remember Black Star saying something about the telly switching on and off randomly but...

A foot step.

_Another one_.

I put both hands over my mouth to keep from gasping. I didn't want water spilling all over me.

But this was insane. Was it just Soul?

No he would have called my name, he would have said he was home. I try anyway.

"Soul?" I could barely whisper through my mouth full of water.

I heard the creak of another step halt, as if whoever was out there had paused because my idiot mouth had to say something. The footsteps started again, louder, more frequent, _headed straight for me_.

**Okay.** Time to end the game.

I burst out of the closet to see the bedroom door was open even though I had clearly shut it when I came in. I scan the room, but I don't see the doll.

I run in to the hall and straight for the bathroom, slamming my hands on the sink to spew salt water in to the basin. But I stop myself, the doll's not here.

The doll's not here.

A strangled sound garbles up my throat. But I contain it and head back into the living room where Soul's show has switched to Dr. Phil of all things. Ignoring the telly, because electronics are not my thing, I search the living room. My senses were so much on alert, I almost missed when the telly started changing until I heard quite clearly:

"I-"

"will find-"

"-you."

I turned to the telly just as the screen flickered off, as dead as how I had left it before.

I really wanted to poop my pants.

Business first. I check the kitchen to see nothing there, the only place I haven't looked as the room at the end of the hall. It was a cramped little room that we mostly used to put our junk.

I head to the room but just as I pass Soul's room I hear- no I _feel_ something following me. I walk faster and this time I can hear light footsteps getting heavier. I'm just about to turn my head when I remember Tsubaki's notes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Don't look back.<strong>_

* * *

><p>I run straight for the storage room, opening the door before slamming it behind me. I leaned against the door, sagging against it to sit on the floor. This isn't my most glorious moment, running away from a doll my father probably bought at the dollar store.<p>

As I catch my breath I listen for footsteps to hear nothing. What felt like half an hour passed. The stacks of cardboard boxes and random objects before me offer no moral support and I lean my head against the door with a dull 'thunk'.

And then:

_"I found you."_

I shriek in pain. Something just stabbed me!

In my butt!

...in my butt?

I pat my jeans to feel something thin inside my back pocket though I could have sworn nothing was in there. I grab hold of the object and hold it at eye level. Even in the dim light, I recognized it immediately.

My stomach dropped. It was my pencil.

Upon closer inspection I notice something: a short length of lead sticking out of the tip. The spirit knows how to work mechanical pencils. I'm doomed.

As if to answer my sinking feeling of despair, I could hear distant laughter, like a child running away. To hide. I hold the pencil like I would a knife. It was my turn now.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To end the game, spray the water from your mouth onto the doll and shout "I win! I win! I win!"<strong>_

* * *

><p>I opened the door, the hallway was empty save the small rectangle of light that came from my bedroom's window, which was right next to a street lamp outside.<p>

I head for Soul's room. The familiar stench of boy and the sight of messy clothes comforted me a little. But I was alone. Soul wasn't here.

And I'm pretty useless without him.

It took about ten minutes to search his room before giving up and heading to mine. I should have picked a bigger doll, this might take all night. And according to Tsubaki I should have ended the game by now. I just peered under my bed when the slam of my door had me up on my feet.

I turned to see my door was closed, footsteps and laughter sounded from behind it.

I run back into the hallway. The telly is on again, some commercial that no one really watches. I head straight for the bathroom because maybe it's hiding somewhere in there when something from the kitchen catches my eye.

The doll, broken red string still clinging to its body, was floating- no, _flying_ straight for me!

I screamed like a little girl, crouching down to cover my hands over my head. The water in my mouth splattering to the ground. I'm not sure what it could do without the pencil but I sure as hell didn't want to find out!

Suddenly the lights flickered on, and a laugh- an _annoying laugh_- bellowed from the couch. I opened my eyes to see the doll a couple feet from me, swinging innocently on a thin string.

"_What the hell?_" I demanded, falling to my butt. I could feel tears of relief prick the corners of my eyes.

"Wow, I haven't heard you scream like that since... that spider in the bathroom." Soul said, appearing in my blurry vision, "Are you crying?"

"You wimp!" Black Star guffawed from the couch where he was hiding. How I hadn't notice that chaotic mess of blue hair I will never remember.

"Are you alright, Maka?" I heard Tsubaki ask, to see her coming out from behind the kitchen counter.

"This... this was a _prank_?" I ask in shock, not really expecting an answer.

"Well you seemed so confident nothing would happen and..." Soul said, helping me up. I let him take the pencil from me in case I stabbed someone. Mainly Black Star.

"_You jerks_!"

"Sorry, Maka!" Tsubaki pleaded, trying to contain Black Star from rupturing something with all his laughter, "We didn't think you'd take it seriously."

"Of course I did! There was footsteps and-" I sighed, whatever. Jokes on me.

"Well, you got me good."

"Don't sound too excited." Black Star said through his snickers, "We even got you a photo finish."

I watched him dangle the camera from his pinky finger and lunged for it.

"Hey now-" Soul caught me, "You'll laugh about it later. I promise."

I glanced at the doll, staring at me while it hung on the ceiling light, "Way, way later."

"Well it's 3:10, time to go. Sorry again, Maka." Tsubaki apologized as she led Black Star to the exit.

"I'm going to tell everyone about this at school tomorrow!" Black Star shouted as Tsubaki towed him out.

I slapped a hand on my face, "Seriously?"

Soul only chuckled, "It wasn't that bad right?"

I didn't respond, suddenly realizing something, "Wait. What time is it?"

Soul stared at me curiously, "Ten past three. Don't tell me you're going to complain about lack of sleep."

"There must be a mistake," I blurt uncertainly, "It's been two hours."

"You were only in the closet for 10 minutes, Maka." Soul told me carefully, his red eyes almost guarded somehow.

"No," I argued, "I was in there for an hour. And then I went out to look for the doll, and you guys chased me to the storage room. And I was in there for another hour!"

"You must have fallen asleep or something." Soul amended, rolling his eyes.

"Then why did I have the pencil?" I demanded, and now Soul was frowning.

"I don't know. I thought you just took it with you."

"I left the pencil with the doll, Soul."

"That doesn't make any sense. We _saw_ you leave the bathroom and head to your room. And _that_ was ten minutes ago."

"Then..." we both turned back to the doll, "Just to make sure?"

"Yeah..." Soul muttered like an afterthought. I retrieved the cup of salt water from my room, first giving Soul the cup. He took a long gulp before handing it to me and I did the same.

We went straight up to the doll and sprayed salt water all over her smiling, creepy face.

"I win." I said.

"I win." Soul continued.

"I win." we said together. This time I'm sure the lights flickered, because out of the corner of my eye I caught Soul looking around in confusion.

I turned back to the doll, the salt water only enhancing its black dot eyes, "That should do it, right?"

Soul shrugged, "You're the Japanese one. Not me."

I flicked his nose (he hates that), and headed back to my room, grabbing my book along the way, "Now if you'll excuse me I'm not going to sleep a wink tonight."

* * *

><p>Soul watched her leave, closing the door behind her. He yanked the doll off the ceiling, staring at it with more intensity than required, more specifically at the small puncture wound in the doll's chest. His hand traced up his body to rest over his chest, on the same spot of the doll's wound.<p>

His eyes turned black for a moment before he grinned, "I don't doubt that."

* * *

><p><em><strong>You must play alone. The more people there are, the higher the chances of someone getting possessed.<strong>_


End file.
